Understanding The Borderline Mother Novels & Stories

“I love you Dad. I love you so much but time after time after time you continue to think of Odin and what is best for him. You said when we were at the breakfast you’d take a bullet for me and die if you needed to but I also know, you would do the same for Odin because he is your son and you thought by making me rent out my vagina and my womb to a crazy man it would protect Odin. It wasn’t about me being soft, but it was you trying to protect both of your children in the only way you could come up with.” “He’s my son.” “Yes he is. I am your daughter. From the day I was born, he has plotted and planned to cause me harm and you’ve all turned a blind eye.” She looked at her mother, “you’re a ch

The Void shifts around me and I realize I’m not alone in here, there are other things existing in this space between realities, remnants of people who tried to cross the Border over the centuries and didn’t make it all the way through. They’re not quite ghosts but they’re not quite gone either, suspended in the moment of their consumption, aware but unable to act or speak or do anything except exist in eternal dissolution. One of them drifts close to me and I recognize the face even though it’s been decades since this person died. My mother. Not alive, not really present, just the echo of her that the Void consumed when Kate murdered her and threw her body into the Border to hide the evidenc

Right after I opened the door, I saw my mother eating biscuits and gravy. I felt my heart jump to my throat. “Mom, didn’t I give you money? Why are you still eating these things? They’re not nutritious at all!” Since my mother was not expecting my return, she was delighted. “Why the sudden visit, Naomi? Where’s Liam?” As I stared at her graying temples, my nose burned. Over the years, I had been busy earning money and getting into Liam’s good graces. But I neglected the woman who had given birth to me and brought me up.

Don't go closer. My hands hovered in midair. I looked at the woman — her white hair, her watery eyes, her trembling lips. I thought of my mother. Three years ago, she'd collapsed in the mud at the border, covered in rogue claw marks, bled dry — but her arms were still wrapped around me, shielding me beneath her body. She'd loved me with her life, right until the very last second. What if this woman's grandson really was lost? What if she really was just an old woman looking for her grandchild?

Lidya was surprised, and she and Bryan looked at each other. "You don't have to worry, Mom. Even though you're not my real mother, I consider you my real mother. I will never recognize another woman as my mother. For more than twenty years you have lovingly cared for me and raised me and I can feel your sincere love." Patricia paused her sentence for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I don't want another mother. You're the only one I want." Hearing this touched Lidya's heart. She did not expect Patricia to behave like this towards her. She thought that if Patricia knew the truth, the boy would hate her and find out who her real mother was, but she was wrong.

"As someone who's dealt with what he put me through, I can easily say boundaries are important. At least that's what I'm learning and if your boundary had to be you couldn't take care of me then so be it." Harley gets up from her desk. "That's not right, Bishop. A mother should put her child first." I argue. "A mother should protect herself in order to protect her child." "I did neither," Mom interrupts. "I let you live your life in a state of fear and desperation. I want you to know something." "I'm all ears." I put my hands out to the side in a motion of surrender. "I'm leaving," she announces. "That's why I came here to see you one last time. I know you won't let me be in their life." She

"Everything okay mom?" "Yes, I just want you to understand why I need you to see this woman." She glared into his eyes, he nodded. In a way he understood already. His mother was the biggest believer in the supernatural, most Nigerian mothers were. "I know your generation believes in only what they feel or see. But in my days we saw less but we felt plenty and we were taught not to always depend on our sights but our bellies," She tapped her stomach - a sign of gut feeling - and continued. "I'm not saying you'll be in danger where you are going to but as a mother I need to know I have done every thing in my feeble might to keep you safe. I know that you'll be safe with your father but I won't

"You're lying, Ms. Lamont. You're not our mommy." Ivana sneered cruelly, "I'm not lying to you. Yara never gave birth to you. That's why you naturally hate her." Hearing that, Cheryl shoved Ivana in anger. "You're talking nonsense! Even if Mommy is annoying, how could she not be our mother?" Ivana froze. She hadn't expected this reaction after Cheryl learned the truth. Lucas quickly comforted her, saying, "Ms. Lamont, even though you're not our mommy, Cheryl and I still like you."

Her mother hesitated again. But this time— She answered. “The boundary between worlds.” The words echoed. Amber’s breath slowed. “That’s why I can feel both,” she said. “Yes.” “And why everything is collapsing now.” Her mother’s expression softened slightly. “Not collapsing,” she corrected. “Reconnecting.” That changed everything. Amber’s thoughts raced. “So the divide wasn’t natural.” “No.” “It was created.” “Yes.” “To stop something.” Her mother held her gaze.

This is the performance of her life, and she's going to give it everything she has. "My daughter has a history of emotional instability," Devika begins, and her voice catches on the word daughter like it causes her pain to say it. "As a mother, it's been heartbreaking to watch. She was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder as a teenager and has struggled with emotional regulation her entire adult life." What? "I have documentation," she continues, producing a folder that looks official and terrifying. "Psychological evaluations conducted during her adolescence. Records of a suicide attempt when she was twenty-one. Documentation of her voluntary commitment to a psychiatric facility f